


Sherlollipops - Baby You Can Drive My Car

by MizJoely



Series: 221 Sherlollipops [215]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I think I just made that category up, Sherlolly - Freeform, cabbie au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 20:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8911384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: Molly as a cabdriver AU.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [broomclosetkink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/broomclosetkink/gifts).



> Inspired by broomclosetkink's comment on tumblr, regarding shipping: _you can ship fucking Sherlock and a fucking cabbie for all care, you feel me?_
> 
> So I did.

“Hi, Mr. Holmes! Where to today?”

Sherlock hid a smile beneath a mask of indifference at Molly’s cheerful question. She was always cheerful, no matter where he ended up asking her to drive him, no matter how many times she had to stop by Baker Street to remind him to pay her (he had a terrible habit of dashing off while on a case), no matter how surly or preoccupied he was when riding in her cab.

At first the number of times she’d ended up driving the taxi he waved down had been suspicious; had his brother paid her to make herself available to him, was she spying on him and reporting back to Mycroft? But no, in a universe rarely so lazy as to provide coincidences, Molly Hooper’s availability was just that. Coincidence. 

Well, not so much now that he’d convinced her to give him her mobile number. Unless she already had a fare, no matter where she was in London, if he called, she responded. The only times he used other cabs these days was if she was too far away and it was an emergency of some sort. Even John had commented on it, but Sherlock had pretended to ignore his unsubtle hints that Sherlock had somehow developed feelings for the young cab driver.

“Belgravia,” Sherlock replied when Molly asked him again, patient as always when he lost himself in thought. He gave the address and settled back in his seat, closing his eyes and relaxing in spite of the thrum of anticipation he was feeling. One thing he’d learned after three years of Molly’s expert driving was that she not only knew London’s streets almost as well as he did, but was hands down the best driver he’d ever ridden with. No worries about her missing a turn or allowing her cab to be cut off or hemmed in by traffic. 

Molly Hooper, cab driver and cat lover, whose medical career had been tragically cut short by her father’s death and mother’s descent into alcoholism, but who still remained determinedly sunny in her outlook on life.

His own personal cabbie and enigma.

“Here we are, then!”

Molly’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and Sherlock opened his eyes. “Ah, yes, excellent.” He opened his door and hopped out, slamming it shut and moving to her door. She rolled down the window and started to tell him how much he owed her when he shook his head. “Leave the meter running but please come inside, Ms. Hooper,” he said. 

Cocking her head inquisitively, she hesitated, shrugged a bit, then closed the window and did as he’d asked. She was wearing her usual comfortable beige khakis, colorful blouse and brightly patterend jumper, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail that swung jauntily as she stepped onto the pavement. “What’s up?” she asked, curious and not at all fearful that he was about to drag her into one of his cases - which, to his credit, he’d only done once before. And on that occasion she hadn’t been held hostage for more than a few hours, no harm done as she’d assured him.

He gestured toward the door of the building. “Not a case,” he said, taking a deep breath before turning to meet her curious gaze. “This is my brother’s house.” He blinked and swallowed - this was harder than he’d thought it would be. “He and my parents are inside. I would…I would very much like to introduce you to them. Molly.”

It was only the second time he’d used her first name, the previous occasion being the aforementioned hostage-taking. He heard her indrawn breath, saw the surprised widening of her eyes - and nodded in response to the question in those beautiful brown orbs. 

Smiling tremulously she reached out with one hand. He clasped it firmly in his and led her to Mycroft’s door.

Time for his family to meet the woman he loved.

 


End file.
